We Stand On Guard For Thee
by Chemical Crow
Summary: The one main thing the world feared has happened... another Nuclear attack has been launched. When an unstable country manages to get his hand on equally unstable yet powerful rockets, the unexpected happened. Off-course, the warheads dodge the detections of their original intent, the U.S., and instead are led astray to the north... and hit. What will "The Hero" do now?


Chapter 1: A Late Letter

_July 17__th_

Sighing, the blond self-proclaimed "Hero" of the world sat down in the office of his Washington D.C. home, looking grudgingly at the pile of papers that rested at his desk. Hesitating for only a moment, he leaned over the desk, and begun to sort through the messy pile.

Currently, the powerful, proud, and patriotic "young" man was looking through his mail. After nearly a month of nothing but work, work, work, he finally had some time to himself to look through his neglected messages on his personal computer and open some letters that were sent to him over the last two weeks.

As expected, most of what was there was simply junk mail, but one stood out from the rest. It was a simple cream colored envelope with… a red maple leaf sticker used to seal it. He stared at it for a brief moment, confused. He turned it over, and searched for the date of when it was sent. Eight days ago. This was also in the pile of mail that had arrived to his house two days prior, but due to his schedule, the American simply placed it upon his desk without even noticing who it was from.

Sitting up straighter, he quickly popped opened up the envelope, sliding out the folded paper inside, and began reading.

_Dear Al,_

_Hey! What's going on bro? I know you're probably wondering why I'm sending a letter rather than just give you a call, but I'll explain that later. Besides, it's refreshing to just pick up a pen and send something meaningful, you know?_

_Anyway, I'm writing this letter to declare war._

_I'M KIDDING! I know you man, don't freak out… seriously. If you did, blame yourself, because I think you're rubbing off on me too much._

_Yeah, but in all seriousness, I just want to thank you. Even though you always seem to be so busy planning your own, you manage to scrounge up a little birthday celebration for me in your most populous city! Don't think I didn't notice, because I did. I may have been celebrating most of my birthday on the opposite side of the continent this year, In Vancouver, but I was still overjoyed that my southern neighbor and brother put on some festivities for me. I know Arthur also held celebrations in London, (yes, I also set him a letter) along with a few others in their own city's, but I was surprised when I caught wind of you doing so as well. You don't know how much that means to me, especially since my_ _sesquicentennial is less than five years away. I also heard that you plan on spreading it to more cities before then! So, let me just say-_

_Thank you!_

_ Now, why write instead of calling you? Well for starters, I know that your whole country is pretty busy at this time of year, with your own birthday and all, and I have some free time at the moment, so I just decided to take time to sit and write this .It's_ _something that I now just realized I haven't done in a while… I just mainly didn't want to bother you in case you were in the middle of running an errand, or in a meeting or something. Plus, you can read this in your own leisurely time, and when you're done-you can burn this baby or something._

_I'm joking again, that would be kinda rude, actually… but I suppose you could do whatever you wanted with it now that it's yours and just not tell me. Please don't though._

_Love, your brother, neighbor, and friend, Matthew Williams_

_P.s. stop calling me Canadia, you hoser_

Alfred stared blankly at the letter after reading that last line, processing all that he had just read. Suddenly, his famous signature grin spread out across his face. That little moron, thinking he would startle him,_ America,_ by jokingly declaring war…

No, he did _not_ stare at that line in dumbfoundment for nearly five full seconds.

The persona of The United States leaned back in his chair, grimacing a little. Maybe he had rubbed his personality on the northern nation a little, as he wrote, a bit too much for _both_ their likings.

_Oh well… That's just what you get from sharing borders and visiting each other so often…_ America thought dismissively. A slight diffusion of culture between neighbors _was_ pretty common… and it did happened to nearly everyone, he supposed.

He glanced back at the letter, suddenly deep in though. Although reading the thing had done its job of filling the North American nation with the familiar warmth of brotherly affection, it also brought up the realization that he actually hasn't _seen_ Matthew in quite some time. _Months_, actually.

The two often visited each other, but this year for some reason had been so busy…

"That's it!" America yelled triumphantly, (and to no one in particular since he was alone) "I'll go see him right now!"

He strode the door of his office, but froze as he reached for the doorknob, another thought quickly entering his mind.

"…or maybe I should give him a call first" he said (still out loud), turning and walking a back bit sheepishly to his desk, where both his home and cell phone rested.

Even though both he and Canada visited each other's home more often than either would admit, it soon became understood that randomly dropping in on each other could end… negatively, to say the least. And this happened more often than not.

Some of the results of the surprised meetings go from arguing, which usually led to actual all-out fighting, tension, confusion, someone fleeing the little get-together (which prolonged resolving their argument longer then it need be), or even… sometimes…

…someone ended up crying.

Alfred tried to ignore the fact that it was actually split 50/50 on who usually ended up in tears in those rare occasions… when things got just a little too far, but~~~~~~~~~~ both brothers were too stubborn to back down.

He let out a sigh as he scrolled through his contacts on his cell, his mood suddenly dimming as he thought back to that one _particularly bad_ time…

* * *

*_Flashback*_

_America fumed as he stomped after an angry Canada, who had just _rudely_ refused his request._

_"Fine! I don't need your help! I only asked because I thought you could handle it!" America angrily yelled. "Who_ _could!? I'm not your handyman you know!" Canada had /shouted back/quickly resorted._

That was just the start of it. America couldn't even remember what they had been arguing about that day, but _man_ did it soon get ugly…

_America quickly turned around and crossed his arms, his back to the Canadian "My God, what a hard-headed, boring stick-in-the-mud!" Canada had stopped to glare at him in slight astonishment at the insults that were suddenly thrown at him "W-what?!"_

_"You're way too impractical!" America declared. _

_"Your ideas are just too crazy!" Canada shot back. _

_"And a dumbass too!" _

_"You're just a big, brainless, KID!"_

_Something at this point had bubbled over in the northernmost country, causing him to mirror his brother's actions and cross his arms, both men now facing opposite directions. It wasn't too often that he was able to show anyone his infamous talent of being able to argue for hours on end._

_"You're too forceful with everything, and I can't stand how fast you get into fights!" Canada started. "Whatever, you're way too soft!" America cut in "try being more realistic-" _

_"You're demanding and always angry," Canada put out, this time cutting the American off. _

_"And then-" America tried to regain his hold on his speech, but Canada cut off his words again "And stop that 'holier-than-thou' attitude! And also…" _

_"Uh…"_

_America slowly turned around as Canada began to list off problems that attributed to the American, startled that he was now in his 'rant mode', and that it was aimed directly at him…_

* * *

*_End flashback_*

…Three hours...

Three _hours_

It was a little over that amount of time that Britain had discovered them, due to a prescheduled chat that he had set up with Canada to recover some items that he had accidently forgotten at the meeting earlier in Toronto that day.

America had shown up a little after the set up was made, asked the now forgotten "favor", and prompted both the argument and Britain's discovery of his former colony's quarreling… well, it was more like the more ignored brother was the only one participating, while the other was sitting on the grass, unnoticed by the ranting man, in a ball of tears. It was… quite the shock, to say the least.

If he hadn't shown up when he did, who _knows_ when the harsh words would have stopped? By the sounds of it, it seemed as if he still had plenty to say, even as the Brit interrupted him.

These thoughts ran freshly through America's mind as he pressed the 'call' button on his cell, his mood a little down as he listened to the first ring.

However, as soon as the click of the other line was heard, he immediately picked himself up, suddenly remembering why he had called in the first place.

"…Hello?" Canada's whispery voice was heard in his ear. It was soon replaced by his brother's louder, more obnoxious one.

"Matt! It's me, Al!" America grinned at his side of the line, suddenly getting excited for what he was about to propose.

"Oh! Hey… I didn't bother to check the caller I.D., sorry… so what's up?"

"Nothing much really, which is why I'm calling. See, I finally got around to reading your letter…"

* * *

*_Elsewhere_…*

Somewhere down in a hastily designed underground fortress, safe from radar –equipped drones that may pass overhead, stood a small, slim, youthful-looking Asian man dressed up in his country's Vice Admiral's uniform. He looked over the shoulder of the seated man in front of him, who was quickly typing on the ancient looking computer in front of him, glancing up at the monitor every few moments.

After a few minutes of just standing there, the V.A. leaned forward, his hand now resting on the back of the chair the other man was sitting in, impatiently thrumming his fingers on the hard plastic. A few wary glances were shot at them from around the small concrete room, but they quickly turned back to their own tables, a bit leery of what could happen if they halted their work to just to stare at a potentially unlucky comrade. The room could only hold about 20 persons at most, so it would be evident if a few of the currently 15 occupants of the room ceased production in the cramped space.

However, the peeks went unnoticed by the man who was obviously in charge of the underground bunker. Said man sighed, and spoke one, stretched word, his voice expectant-

"…Well?"

The man at the computer knew what he meant, and finished a few more keystrokes, before pressing the "send" button. He straightened up a bit more -careful not to lean back- and calmly replied, "It's done."

He turn in his seat, looking up at his superior, who was waiting for a more explanatory report. "Everything is set, and all we must do now is waiting for the reply from the northern base to confirm It." his dull eyes stared up at the other's too bright ones. He had worked with this man nearly his entire military service, and had never held any actual fear towards him. He was actually quite comfortable with him, a feeling that no one else in the room seemed to been graced with having.

The Vice released the back of the chair, opting instead to cross his arms in front of his chest.

"And about _when_ is the reply supposed to-"

His question was cut off by a soft 'Ding!' noise escaping the seated man's computer. He twisted back towards the screen, clicking his mouse a few times.

Both men stared at the message on the screen, frozen. The Vice's mouth soon split into a wide grin, and placed a hand upon the other's shoulder.

"We did it…" he gleefully exclaimed. " We did it!"

He laughed and shook the shoulder of the now smirking man in a congratulatory manner as the tiny room was filled with small cheers and clapping.

They had done it… after months of quiet planning, they had successful managed to sneak a "borrowed" long-distance Russian rocket onto their homeland…

Of North Korea

* * *

**Yo! Hi! Wazzup...?**

**This story popped in my head about a month ago, and I spent that month planning it all out to see if I wanted to go through with it…**

**And obviously… I did. YAY!**

**Sorry if you wee expecting explosions and stuff in the first chapter... but that's not how I roll. Soon, though.**

**A LITTLE EXPLINATION- I don't like to think of N. Korea as some evil, crazy, stupid place, and as this story goes on, you'll be able to see that quite clearly... **

**I made this for numerous reasons, most of them being about timing. I first found out about Hetalia on the 9th of August (how many of you remember the day you became a fan? I know because it was the day after my sibling's birthday) and I have been to every end of the fandom, except in one particular place... contributing to it! so to celibate my fan-nivsary, I decided to make this.**

**I have never written anything besides ****kick-ass**** essays in school, so I don't really know how I did...**

**SO, I hope you could read this, drop a review, tell me if I made any errors or give me pointers or something…**

**I have no idea when I will update this, but IT WILL be before the end of September, I PINKY PROMISE! **

**Btw, I own nothing, and... the flashback was an actual comic strip, that I found completely on accident.**

**a very good accident.**

**Until next time… **

**-H.R.**


End file.
